


wretched and divine

by choiyoonas



Series: wretched and divine 'verse [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Alternate Universe, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Dumbledore Bashing, FUCK JKR all my homies hate jkr, Gen, Good Draco Malfoy, Good Severus Snape, Good Slytherins, Protective Hermione Granger, Slytherin Harry Potter, Slytherin Hermione Granger, Slytherins are people too, Snape is a Good Person For Once, Weasley Bashing, except dumbledore, fuck the dursleys, i hate him, kind of, screw you jkr, shocker - Freeform, wow adults acting like actual adults
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-17
Updated: 2020-03-28
Packaged: 2021-02-27 11:41:14
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,635
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22286527
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/choiyoonas/pseuds/choiyoonas
Summary: in which both hermione granger and harry potter are sorted into slytherin and the adults, perhaps, have a bit more sense. hermione-centric.
Relationships: they are eleven
Series: wretched and divine 'verse [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1608043
Comments: 1
Kudos: 91





	1. one

  
Hermione said goodbye to her mum and dad once more, then stepped onto the Hogwarts Express. She looked around at the interior, taking in how similar it was to the trains she was used to, and sat on the nearest seat to watch the platform go by. Hermione waved to her parents. They waved back, smiling up at their daughter, disappearing from view as the train gained speed. Hermione sighed, turning around in the seat. As she considered digging out a book from her trunk, a worried-looking blond boy opened the door and stepped inside.

"Have you seen a toad? I've lost mine,"

"I haven't, but give me a moment to put on my robes, and I'll be happy to help you look." The boy nodded, closing the door to the compartment and turning away to give her privacy should she need it. Hermione reached up for her trunk and pulled out a set of robes from within. She pulled them on over her regular clothes, then turned back to the boy.

"I'm Hermione Granger."

"Neville Longbottom. Thanks for helping me, Hermione."

"No problem, Neville. Now, where'd you see your toad last?"

After looking for Neville's toad for half an hour, Hermione was tired of it. She threw open the door to what felt like the hundredth compartment. Inside were three boys and three girls their age.

"Hello, sorry to barge in, but poor Neville Longbottom's lost his toad. Have any of you seen it?" The others stared for a moment before one spoke.

"No, sorry," One boy, the tan one with unruly black hair, told her.

"I found him, Hermione! He was in my pocket the whole time!" Hermione wheeled around to face Neville. She smiled at him, concealing her true annoyance at having to search for something he'd had the entire time.

"Good," Hermione turned around again, "He found the toad. Thanks anyway." Neville had left the compartment already, so she relaxed a bit.

"Wait, d'you want to sit with us?" Another boy, blond and pale, asked.

"Sure." She smiled at the little group, "I'm Hermione Granger. And you all are?"

"Draco Malfoy," The pale boy stuck out his hand for her to shake. She did. " Harry Potter and Blaise Zabini. The girls are Pansy Parkinson, Millicent Bulstrode, and Daphne Greengrass." Draco indicated each person in turn, gesturing around the compartment. Hermione bit back her excitement at getting to meet Harry Potter, who was less of the sensation her books had made him out to be and more of a shy eleven-year-old. Pansy and Daphne drew her over to sit next to them; she obliged.

"It's nice to meet you all." There were pleasant replies, which Hermione acknowledged, but she paid attention to Pansy and Daphne, who were discussing some magazine titled Witch Weekly.

"So, Hermione, which House do you think you'll be in? My family's been in Slytherin for centuries. It would be a shame if I'm not."

"Either Ravenclaw or Slytherin, I think. My parents tried to wrap their heads around this witch business, but they don't quite understand, which is alright. It's not their world, after all."

"Hold on," Pansy interrupted, "You're a Muggle-born? I couldn't tell." Hermione frowned.

"I am. Is that a bad thing? If it is, I can leave. That Longbottom boy seemed rather nice."

"Pansy, please don't tell me you believe all of that nonsense?" Draco asked, "Hermione, most of us grew up in Pure-blood families who think we're better because all our family are wizards. That's not true, but they tried anyway. Pansy was just surprised, is all. Most Muggle-borns don't know as much as you do."

"And let us be thankful that you did not listen. I hope we can be friends." Hermione smiled at her companions. Harry, sitting next to Draco and mostly listening to the conversation, scooted forward in his seat.

"My Mum was Muggle-born. When my parents died, I went to her Muggle sister and her husband. I'm glad school gives me most of the year away from the Dursleys," Hermione sighed. She and the others would have to keep an eye on Harry.

"You don't have to worry about them here, mate," Blaise chimed in, trying to lighten the mood.

"Anyway, I'm sure you all are destined for Slytherin, right? Centuries-old family tradition and all that."

"How'd you know?"

"Magic." Hermione wiggled her fingers as she spoke.

"Harry, what about you? Which House do you want?" Pansy asked the boy, whose cheeks turned a light shade of pink against his darker skin.

"Er, I'm not sure, to be honest," He admitted. "Mum and Dad were Gryffindors, but I'm not sure it's for me. Maybe I'll tell the Hat to put me in Slytherin."

"Spoken like a true Slytherin, Harry."

"Oh! Er, d'you lot know a boy called Ron Weasley? His family helped me find the train platform. When I told him I wanted to find Draco, he told me I could do it alone." Harry asks, remembering how confusing the whole interaction had been.

"He seemed alright when Neville and I were looking for Trevor." Hermione was confused. Maybe the Weasleys and Malfoys had some kind of rivalry?

"I don't know him that well, but his father and mine aren't on good terms," Draco replies whilst picking at his robes, "The Weasleys have a reputation of being, er, blood-traitors, since they're not all about blood supremacy." Hermione was right.

"So, Weasley doesn't like me because your dad and his don't like each other. Huh. He's, er, rather daft, isn't he?"

"Let's not tell him the truth, then," Hermione says, a gleam of mischief in her eyes.

"The Hat would be mad to put you anywhere but Slytherin, Hermione, with that attitude. Now, who wants to go looking for the trolley witch?"

Hermione stepped off the Hogwarts Express and onto the station platform, grinning from ear to ear. This was so much cooler than Narnia!

"Slytherin!" The frayed, dirty hat on Hermione's head called out. The young witch beamed as she skipped to the table clad in green and silver. She properly introduced herself to Millicent, and two boys called Crabbe and Goyle. Another girl joined Slytherin; Pansy. She sat next to Hermione and grinned at her.

"Hi again. We met on the train, right?"

"We did."

Pansy beamed at Hermione, who was beyond ecstatic. She'd only known about being a witch since July, but it was amazing, so far. Going to Diagon Alley, reading the books Mum and Dad let her buy there, taking the train to Hogwarts. Hogwarts itself. Hogwarts: A History didn't do it justice. Her books about Narnia seemed silly, now that Hermione knew she was a proper witch and could do real magic! While Hermione sat with her thoughts, Daphne Greengrass, who Draco had introduced to her on the train, became a Slytherin and sat next to Pansy. She didn't move to speak to Hermione, but that was okay. They could get to know each other better later. Draco Malfoy smiled at Hermione and moved to sit near Pansy and her. He'd been talking with some older students before then.

"Hello again, Hermione," Draco said, offering the girl a smile. Hermione didn't get to reply, for another boy joined their ranks, Theodore Nott, and began chatting with the other first years. He insisted on them calling him Theo, though Hermione had the idea to call him by his full name anyway. Meanwhile, McGonagall called out the name of another boy, Harry Potter. Hermione almost wanted to join in the excited shouts and noise, but she'd met him on the train. Hermione had learned that Harry disliked the attention his fame brought. He wanted to be a regular boy. Well, as regular as you can be when you've got magic. She made a silent vow to speak with Draco about keeping an eye on Harry, he seemed so afraid. The whole Hall was silent as Professor McGonagall placed the Sorting Hat on Harry's head. Hermione, along with Draco, leaned forward a bit in her seat as she waited for the Hat to decide. What House will he be in?, Hermione wondered. After about a minute sat on the stool, the Hat finally gave an answer.

"Slytherin!" It cried. Around Hermione and Draco and Pansy, the whole table erupted into applause.

"We got Potter! We got Potter!" A few older boys yelled in their glee. Harry blushed and sat down next to Draco, opposite Hermione. A few other first years went to attack poor Harry with questions and the like, but Draco swooped in.

"Leave him alone, will you?"

"Hi, Harry," Hermione tried averting his attention away from the other Slytherins.

"Hello. You were with our lot on the train, right?" Hermione nodded as Pansy, from Draco's other side, flashed a grin and moved to take the seat at Hermione's left instead.

"You remember Pansy, from the train, yeah?" Draco asked Harry, who nodded.

"Hi, Pansy," Harry's voice, a soft tenor, was shaky; if anyone else but Hermione noticed, they said nothing.

"Hi," Replied Pansy, "I hope you and Hermione aren't too nervous about all this. I'm sure we all are at least a bit, but you're in safe hands." Hermione tuned out the conversation. She turned her attention to the High Table, where a boy called Ronald Weasley joined Gryffindor. So that was who Harry worried about! He looked harmless to her. Hermione was glad the Hat put her where it did. Those Gryffindors across the Great Hall were far too rambunctious for her taste. She preferred the quieter dignity of Slytherin. In the next few moments, another boy joined Slytherin, Blaise Zabini. Thus, their little circle of companions grew. Hermione grinned again; she'd had a few friends in primary school, though people disliked her. She wasn't amazing at first impressions, but at Hogwarts that didn't seem to be a problem. The other students talked to her first, not the other way round.

"I was nervous before, too. You'd be mad to not be." As she spoke, Hermione saw Harry relax a bit. She smiled at him, overjoyed when he turned it. At the High Table, the headmaster-Dumbledore, Hermione remembered- gave a few warnings and a few strange words. The tables were filled with food and they could tuck in. Hermione, like the others, busied herself by fixing a plate. She grabbed a bit of everything that looked good or that she knew, which was quite a lot. As she ate, Hermione noticed Harry eating very little. When she got to her last bite of mince pie, Hermione swallowed before looking at the boy, whose eyes were on the staff table. He made eye contact with a Professor in a turban. Harry might not have meant for them to, but Hermione and Draco noticed that he winced and turned away.

"Harry, don't you want any more? You've barely eaten," she said, speaking softly so only Harry could hear. He shook his head.

"I'm ok," Harry's green eyes looking anywhere but at Hermione, he noticed how her hair was frizzier than when they'd arrived. Maybe it was the humidity? Hermione scooped some mashed potato and broccoli onto his plate while he was preoccupied. Hermione let her eyes drift to the staff table again, where Professor Snape was speaking with Quirrell and looking aggravated. She returned to her slice of mince pie, admiring the flaky crust.

"Thanks, Hermione," Harry said after a few bites, "You don't have to look after me, y'know."

"You're welcome. I might not, but I'm your friend. I want to make sure you don't get into trouble."

"F-friend?" Harry stammered, "But we barely know each other." Hermione shook her head.

"Pansy, Draco, Blaise, please help me explain to dear Harry that the whole point of being friends is to get to know people." The other three nodded their agreement, and Draco even reached up to ruffle Harry's already messy hair. He blushed, cheeks turning pink. Blaise and Pansy gave their own little remarks that Hermione didn't catch; she was busy trying to get Harry to eat more steak. He was much thinner than the others in their year; that wouldn't do either, Hermione decided.

"I didn't mean to cause a fuss. It's just… Nevermind," The food on the table had disappeared, quickly replaced by desserts. Hermione grabbed a piece of fudge for herself and another for Harry. She handed him his piece.

"We understand, don't we, Draco?" Hermione says, dragging the blond back into the conversation. She was glad there was someone else Harry had gravitated towards. Draco didn't mind, though, and Hermione was glad for it.

"Of course." Draco didn't get to finish, for Professor Dumbledore had stood and was giving another brief speech, to which Hermione didn't listen. The school's older students sang the school song until only two ginger-haired Gryffindors were left, singing to the tune of a slow funeral march. When they'd finished, Dumbledore turned them loose and allowed the Prefects to lead the first years to their respective dormitories; Hermione made sure to not lose sight of Harry. It would be just their luck that he'd drag behind and get lost. Luckily, though, Harry strayed not as the Slytherins made their way down into the dungeons, chatting amongst themselves.

"Ugh, I've never been this tired in my life."

"Shut up, Draco."

" _No_."

Hermione looked away from her companions to see that they had stopped in front of a wall bordered by columns on either side.

"The password is Salazar," Their Prefect escort, Gemma Farley, told the first years and anyone else who was listening. She led them inside once a large hole had appeared in the wall. Hermione was ready to find her dorm and go straight to bed; thankfully, Gemma told them where to go.

"Dormitories are down those corridors. Left for boys, right for girls. The doors are marked by year, you'll know which is yours. I know you're all tired, but please stay in the common room. Professor Snape should be along shortly. He usually gives first years a little speech." Gemma says, taking a seat in the nearest armchair. A boy about her age sat on the settee opposite. Hermione joined the others in her year in sitting about the large room. Moments later, Professor Snape entered the room. He wore swishy black robes and his long, dark hair was greasy.

"I shall make this quick, as I'm sure we would all like to get to bed as soon as possible. Welcome, first years, to Slytherin. I am your Head of House and Potions professor, Severus Snape. I hope that you will turn to myself, another teacher, or a Prefect if you ever need help. We are here to guide you on the path to being the best witch or wizard you can be. Slytherin is possibly the best house for that purpose. While we serpents may have a bit of a nasty reputation, you should soon find that not everyone is a He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named in the making. Now, you may go to your dormitories. Good night." Hermione followed Pansy and Daphne into their room, Tracey Davis and Millicent behind her. The room, spacious and circular, had five beds and large windows that looked out at the lake. Hermione quickly found her trunk in front of the bed nearest the bathroom. She and the other girls changed into their pyjamas, and crawled into bed.

"Good night," Hermione said to no one in particular and turned over on her side. She fell into a pleasant sleep.


	2. two

Hermione woke up on the first day of classes in good spirits. She woke up before her other roommates, even Pansy, and got ready in an empty bathroom. She brushed her hair to detangle it and let it do its thing. The hair wants what the hair wants.

By the time she finished, robes and all, Pansy and Daphne were awake. Hermione gave them both a cheery greeting, then grabbed her large bag, already packed. She walked out into the common room to wait for Harry, Draco, and Pansy. While she sat in a squishy armchair, Hermione was debating picking up her copy of Hogwarts: A History for the third time. She didn’t and heard footsteps coming her way. It was Pansy, dressed and wearing a bit of makeup.

“I don’t want to know why you look so excited. It’s school.”

“Muggle-born, remember?”

“I do now.”

“Morning, you two,” Hermione said. Draco and Harry were walking into the common room, looking not at all pleased to be awake. Pansy smiled at the boys and gave a little wave.

“Morning, Hermione. Let’s go to breakfast, I’m starving.” Draco led them out of the common room and into the Great Hall. They sat down to eat, glad that they were early. The Hall wasn’t empty, but there weren’t as many students as last night. Hermione’s eyes moved around the Hall and came to rest at the staff table. Professor Snape was looking about as miserable as ever, sitting next to a man in a large turban. The fact that he was wearing a turban struck her as odd, since he looked white. Hermione saw as the Professor got up from the table and walked towards the Slytherin table, parchment in hands.

“You four, please come get your class schedules,” Snape drawled, gaze on his students. Hermione, Pansy, Harry, and Draco stood up and took their schedules.

“Thank you, Professor,” They chorused, trying to sound cheerful. Hermione sat down first, brown eyes scanning the parchment. Professor Snape continued to pass out sheets from his stack.

“We have Potions with Gryffindor first,” She said, taking a bite of pancake.

“Ugh,” Harry chewed his sausage and looked over his own parchment.

“That Ron Weasley seems like he’s got it out for us. He looked like he wanted to say something last night, but one of his little friends stopped him. Seems he hasn’t much sense.” Hermione put another sausage and two eggs on Harry’s plate. Draco met Harry’s eyes and smirked.

“I think you might be right.”

“Harry, Draco…” Hermione’s voice trailed off as the bell tolled, and the Slytherins ventured back down to the dungeons for their first potions lesson.

When Hermione entered the classroom, a few Gryffindors had already taken their seats on one side of the room. She directed her friends to the opposite side, making sure Harry sat with Draco. The bell tolled once more a few minutes later, and in strode their teacher, Professor Snape. He called roll and began, like McGonagall, to pace up and down along the length of floor before the worktables. He came to a stop at the gap between the groups of tables.

“Most of you will not believe this is magic, as there will be no wand-waving in my classroom. I am here to teach you the art and science of potion-making. Hopefully you will manage, if you’re not as stupid as the usual lot I have to teach. Ah, Mr Potter… I would have guessed you’d be a shoo-in for Gryffindor, like your mother. It seems the Hat had other ideas. Where, Mr Potter, would one find a bezoar?” Poor Harry looked mortified, Hermione noticed.

“In the stomach of a goat, sir,”

“Five points to Slytherin. Potter, tell me, what is the difference between monkshood and wolfsbane?”

“Aren’t they the same thing?”

“Correct. Another five points to Slytherin.” Professor Snape paired them off to work on a cure for boils. Harry and Draco sat together, as were Pansy and Hermione. Blaise got Millicent Bulstrode. The Weasley boy, Hermione noticed, was with Neville Longbottom, the boy who’d misplaced his toad. When the class was about finished, there was a loud boom. Professor Snape walked over to the Gryffindor’s side of the room. Neville Longbottom had severely messed up his potion, and the poor boy was about to cry.

“Ah, it’s alright,” Professor Snape told him gently, “We can fix it.” He waved his wand, and the potion disappeared; the mangled cauldron repaired itself. Hermione looked away and bottled her and Pansy’s potion, with her partner’s help. Hermione held the bottle while Pansy poured. When Professor Snape finished with Neville, he walked around the room, inspecting potions.

“Well done, Miss Granger, Miss Parkinson. Ten points to Slytherin.”

After Charms class, where Hermione was delighted to earn Slytherin 15 points, was History of Magic.

“Wicked. You were right, Hermione, Professor Binns is a ghost!” Harry whispered to her as they found seats. She’d told him the story of the ghost professor, waking up to teach and leaving his body behind, as they walked to class. Hermione wanted to sit toward the front, but Harry got her to sit with Pansy, Draco, and him in the back of the room. They wouldn’t keep her from keeping diligent notes along with Binns’ droning lecture.

Lunch came after, finally, and Hermione joined her friends in the Great Hall once more. They chatted about the two teachers they’d met so far; there wasn’t much to say, but Pansy and Draco kept up the conversation, mostly. Hermione tried putting more food onto Harry’s plate; he didn’t seem to notice. She wouldn’t be able to come up with a reasonable answer if he had. When the meal ended, the Slytherin first years gathered their things and set off.

Their first class with the Head of Gryffindor House and their Ravenclaw year-mates went by without incident.

“Transfiguration is, no doubt, some of the hardest magic you will learn at Hogwarts,” Professor McGonagall said, pacing the length of the floor in front of the tables. Her shoes made a soft clicking noise as she walked.

“With that in mind, we will first cover a bit of theory. I shan’t make you do the trickier bits until next week. Now, can any of you tell me what an Animagus is?” Hermione’s hand shot up. The Professor nodded. A Ravenclaw had also put her hand up, but McGonagall ignored it.

“Animagi are humans with the ability to transform into an animal at will,”

“Very good, Miss?”

“Hermione Granger, Professor,”

“Miss Granger. Five points to Slytherin.” Next moment, the professor turned into a cat. Several students stared in awe at their teacher for a few moments. Then she became human again, and the lecture continued. By the time the bell rang, Hermione had two page-length sheets of parchment filled with notes. She needed to get a notebook. Mum and Dad could send one with their next letter, with some more butterfly clips. Maybe they would send a Lisa Frank, instead of a solid colour notebook.

Finally, the class day ended, and it was time for dinner. The elves had cooked up a lovely shepherd’s pie and a few sides of extra veggies.

Not even ten minutes in, a large snowy owl flew toward the Slytherin table and landed on Harry’s shoulder.

“Nice to see you, too, Hedwig,” He said, feeding her a bit of meat from his shepherd’s pie.

“Harry, she’s brought you a letter,” Draco pointed out, eyes on the little scroll attached to the owl’s leg. Harry nodded and unrolled the parchment.

“It’s from Hagrid,”

“What’s it say?”

“Hang on, Draco, let Harry read it first,” Hermione wanted to hear, too, but she’d learnt to rein in her impatience years ago. When your parents are dentists, you get used to waiting for things, like finally being able to go home after spending the day at the office, for sweets that never come, the talks about teeth and mouth things you’d never understand.

“He wants me to come visit him on Friday, since we’ll have a free afternoon period. He says I can bring friends.” Harry looked positively ecstatic about the invitation. It was as if he’d never been invited to anything before. Hermione suspected that was true, but Harry hadn’t divulged enough about his life before Hogwarts for her to make any firm decision regarding its validity.

“Tell him you’ll go,” Draco said, “And that Hermione and I will come, too.” Harry nodded again and dug out parchment and quill and inkwell from his bag. There wasn’t much room for it on the table, but he managed.

“Harry, don’t you think a reply could wait? You haven’t finished your pie.”

“I want to send it as soon as I can, so he doesn’t have time to change his mind.”

“Well, at least take this,” Hermione said with a sigh, drawing a Muggle pen from her own bag. It was red and bore the logo for her parents’ office.

“Thanks, Hermione, I hadn’t even thought to bring pens.” Harry said, turning over Hagrid’s note and scribbling a reply.

“No problem. I’ve tons, Mum and Dad keep them stocked everywhere. Makes for easy advertisement for the office.” Draco, who had watched the whole exchange, looked at Harry and Hermione once, then again.

“Could I get one of those, Hermione? Pens are hard to come by in the Wizarding world.” Hermione drew another pen and handed it to him. Harry had finished and returned to his food, which was nearly gone by the time Hermione glanced at it again. Pansy and Blaise asked for pens, too.

“Thanks, Hermione.” Pansy said, smiling at her friend. Blaise merely gave a nod in Hermione’s direction. Pansy turned to Hermione, finished with her food.

“So, is Hogwarts every bit as amazing as your books told you it would be?”

“The real thing is way better.”

Later that night, as Hermione lay in bed, she thought of all the good things that had happened during the day. She counted at least five, before rolling on her left side and falling into a lovely sleep.

The next four days went by similarly to the first; on Wednesday night, they attended an Astronomy lesson with the rest of their year, and Tuesday afternoon, Professor Sprout told them about herbs used to counteract poisons and showed them the pots she grew some of them in. On Thursday morning, Hermione, Draco, and Harry had a run-in with Mr Filch; they had come across the forbidden third-floor corridor and were trying to open a locked door. He refused to believe them when they claimed they were lost. As they walked away after a stern reprimand from the caretaker, Hermione and Harry saw Professor Quirrell disappear around the corner.

Friday, the day she and Harry and Draco were to meet Hagrid, had come at last. Hermione, Pansy, and Harry went to lunch that afternoon, one missing from their midst. Draco was asleep. None of them wanted to suffer his wrath by waking him from his ever so important ‘beauty sleep’; he wanted to nap during their free period. Good for him. Hermione’s watch read half eleven. Hermione sat in her usual seat on Pansy’s right. Harry, feeling sort of out of place without Draco, sat on Hermione’s left. They ate their breakfast in relative silence, Harry and Hermione wanting to eat quickly.

“Hermione, is it just me, or is Professor Quirrell looking more suspicious than normal?”

“Harry, what are you talking about?”

“I dunno, just… You know how my scar hurts when he’s around, right?” Hermione nodded before Harry continued.

“He just seems… off to me. Especially after we ran into Filch.”

“Finally, someone in this friend group with a brain!” Pansy cried, “I knew there was a reason he creeped me out.” Hermione looked at her with concern for a few seconds.

“He might be up to something, but I’m not making any judgement until we have evidence.” Hermione said at last, eyes on her friends.

“Evidence, my arse,” Harry grumbled, poking his tomato with a fork. Next moment, Draco walked in.

“Morning, Sleeping Beauty,” Harry said.

“Huh?”

“Er, a Muggle story. Hermione and I were about to leave for Hagrid’s without you, so eat quickly. Please.”

Harry knocked on the door to Hagrid’s hut when they got to it. He could hear a dog barking.

“Back, Fang, back!” Hermione heard Hagrid say from inside. The door opened a moment later to reveal the large man, his boarhound behind him.

“Come in, you three. I’ve got tea and rock cakes, if you want any.”

“Tea, please,” They chorused, taking a seat on Hagrid’s couch, while the man sat on a large wooden chair next to it. There was also an enormous bed on the opposite wall; the wooden walls were lit by the lanterns he’d hung on the ceiling. Hagrid obliged their requests and poured four bucket-sized cups of tea. There was sugar on the table, along with a tureen of milk, and large grey lumps Hermione guessed were rock cakes. Harry, once he’d mixed in enough sugar and milk into it, took a sip of tea. How he did so without spilling, Hermione would never know. She fiddled absently with the hem of her pink sweater.

“Hagrid, can I ask you something?”

“Go ahead, Harry.”

“Well, er, what do you know about the third-floor corridor?”

“Third-floor corridor, eh? D’you lot find out about Fluffy?”

“Fluffy?! What’s Fluffy?”

“I shouldn’t’ve said that.” Hagrid’s face, hidden by hair and beard as it was, turned red. Draco made a face; Fang, who he’d been happily petting, had drooled onto his robes.

“Thank you for the tea and cakes, Hagrid, but we have to get going. Can we come by next Friday, same time as today?”

“Come by anytime.” Hermione, thinking that perhaps Harry had got them into a bit of a pickle, led her friends back to the school and into their common room.

That night at dinner, Hermione was washing her hands in the restroom near the Great Hall when she heard a series of loud noises. In came a large troll, grey and smelling like dirty socks.

“Oh, no,” She whispered, ducking into a stall. Hermione could hear the troll destroying the bathroom. She’d been hiding for a grand total of ten minutes when the door opened. She barely heard it over the troll.

“Hermione! Are you in here?”

“Uh, yeah!” She unlocked the door to the stall and stepped out to see Harry and Draco, both looking fearful.

“Do you have a plan?”

“What?” Hermione stared at the troll, whose back was to her and her friends, smashing the mirrors and sinks. Can it smell fear?, she wondered.

“Do. You. Have. A. Plan?” Draco asked again, eyes darting from troll to his friend.

“No, do you?”

“Merlin’s pants, Hermione, if I had one I wouldn’t be asking you!” Apparently, his voice was loud enough to attract the troll’s attention, for it turned round and began advancing on them.

“Hold on, I have an idea. You two, try to distract it.” And distract the troll they did; yelling insults at it seemed to work best as they moved closer to the back wall. Hermione, however, stood against the wall to the right, wand at the ready. She waited a few moments for her friends to sufficiently distract the gigantic beast. Hermione raised her wand and pointed it at the large club the troll held.

“Wingardium leviosa!” Then the club dropped itself on the troll’s head. Hermione gave herself a mental pat on the back when the troll fell forward, passed out.

“Nice one, Hermione!” Harry and Draco were grinning at her, just as ecstatic as she was. Until the door to the bathroom opened; Professors Snape and McGonagall stepped in.

“Would you three care to explain yourselves?” Professor Snape asked. Draco and Harry exchanged a glance. Hermione looked at her teachers for a moment, then cleared her throat.

“It was my fault, Professors. I heard there was a troll loose and wanted to go after it myself. I thought it would make the other Slytherins appreciate Muggleborns more. But if Harry and Draco weren’t here to help me, I might be dead.”

“Well. Five points each to you three for subduing a fully grown troll while only in your first year. Granger, you lose ten points for your foolish actions.”

“Professor Snape and I, as deputy Headmistress, will discuss your punishment with Headmaster Dumbledore. Now, you three will follow your Head of House back to the Slytherin common room for bed. I do hope you shall stay out of trouble. Good night.” Professor McGonagall turned away and walked out. Hermione, cheeks red, followed Draco, Harry, and Professor Snape down to the dungeons. If they weren’t friends before that night, they definitely were now.


	3. three

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> well, here you go. chapter three of wretched and divine, a bit of filler before we get to the more interesting bits. enjoy

As November began, the Slytherins' flying lessons stopped. The Quidditch season was starting soon and first years couldn't play for the House team, so Madam Hooch found them of no proper use. Harry, however, had got himself into the Slytherin team anyway, for his flying skill in retrieving Neville Longbottom's remembrall from Ronald Weasley during their first lesson. Draco, Blaise, and Theo (though not as much) moped around for several days after the announcement.

"My life is over, Mione," Draco said sullenly one Friday afternoon during their free period. He was lying on a sofa in the common room, Harry on the cushion next to him. Hermione and Pansy sat with Blaise on the sofa opposite. Harry held Hermione's copy of Quidditch Through the Ages, she'd let him borrow it as soon as practises had begun. Slytherin's captain, a rather ugly boy by the name of Marcus Flint, had the team on the pitch nearly five days a week. Hermione would have felt bad for Harry, but he seemed to enjoy the sport. His father had played and loved it.

"Your life isn't over, Draco," Pansy replied, "Madam Hooch stopped lessons just in time for Quidditch." Draco sighed.

"You may be right, but unlike dear Harry, we can't play for the House team," Draco replied.

"Of course I'm right, you prat." Pansy sat up a bit on Hermione's left as she spoke. Blaise didn't look up from his Charms homework, though Hermione faintly wished he would. Maybe he would introduce a conversation that wasn't about Quidditch. Sure, it was fun to have an athletic outlet, but the sport was barbaric and not much fun in Hermione's opinion. Maybe watching it would be better? She scowled at the parchment in her hands; her Transfiguration essay was proving to be difficult.

"Does anyone understand McGonagall's essay assignment?" She asked the room. There was a chorus of no's, not that she was surprised.

"Well, you lot are no help," Hermione grumbled, frowning once more at the sheet and her textbook. Another ten minutes passed before she gave up, putting the parchment and book back into her bag.

"Hermione, could you read over my Charms essay?" Blaise asks, holding the parchment out to Pansy, who passed it to Hermione.

"Sure, Blaise," Hermione smiled at her friend before looking it over. It was quite good; maybe the boys paid attention. She handed it back with minimal corrections from her quill, and Blaise smiled at her.

"Thanks."

Before dinner, Hermione and her friends, minus Blaise and Theo, who had decided they didn't want to get into any trouble, concocted the lovely idea of trying to find out what the teachers were up to. Hermione had tried to protest, but to no avail. The door to the staff room was slightly ajar. Inside, Professor Snape stood with Mr Filch; the latter was bandaging a rather gruesome-looking gash in Snape's leg.

"Damn dog," He muttered, "How does he expect us to focus on all three heads at once?" The other three recoiled with disgust at the sight; Pansy, however, continued staring until Professor Snape's head turned. He saw her; their eyes met. Pansy didn't look away, though, until Filch's eyes found her. Professor Snape hastened to move his robes to cover his leg once more, then strode to the door. His expression somewhere between disappointment and anger, the man eyed his students. Hermione wished they hadn't done this. She could be eating by now, or even back in the common room to finish up her homework. But, as fate would have it, there she stood, waiting to get chewed out by her Head of House.

"Run along to dinner, you lot. Potter, Granger, Malfoy, you ought to know how to stay out of trouble by now. Miss Parkinson, I expected better from you. I won't take points… This time. Know that if something of this nature happens again, I won't hesitate to." Professor Snape guided them away from the door and off toward the Great Hall. When they got there, the rest of the Hall was full of other students. Hermione and her friends joined their House at the table to eat.

"I can't believe we got caught," Pansy groaned, taking a bite of sandwich.

"It was your fault, Pansy," Hermione replied. She glanced over at Harry to her right, who looked a bit spooked. Draco, on Harry's left, was whispering to him. Whatever Draco was saying must have worked, for the other boy finally ate, cheeks faintly pink.

"Well, yeah," Pansy conceded, "I'm just glad we didn't get detention. I hear Filch's are the worst." Hermione sighed and poked at her shepherd's pie with her fork. She took a bite, eyes looking around the room. When dinner ended, Hermione and co. walked down to the dungeons and their dormitories. After that day's staff room scare and the annoying Transfiguration essay, Hermione found it comforting to slide into bed and go to sleep.

The next few weeks passed fairly calmly until an unfortunate Thursday when Hermione got herself into another incident that would get her in trouble. Maybe.

"Oi, Potter, Malfoy!" A voice called, coming towards Hermione and her friends. Oh no, she thought, Weasley.

"What do you want, Weasley?" Pansy said, stepping forward and into Weasley's personal space.

"I don't think I was speaking to you, Parkinson," The boy replied, trying to sound tough. He looked a bit intimidated by Pansy, though, but continued, "Potter, I challenge you to a wizard's duel tonight at midnight in the trophy room. My second is Seamus, pick yours." Harry looked afraid for a second, but took a breath and glanced at Draco.

"Draco, how'd you like to be my second?" He asked. The other boy nodded.

"It's settled then. Midnight, Potter. Don't be late." Weasley and his friend, Seamus apparently, walked away. Pansy looked at Harry and Draco, then laughed.

"He thinks he's so intimidating," She cried, "But really he's like a kicked puppy!" Pansy wiped her eyes devoid of tears and elbowed Blaise, who mumbled something.

"Pansy, how about you and Blaise head on to the common room? We'll be along shortly." Hermione said, looping her arm around Harry's. Pansy and Blaise walked off toward the dungeons, having let their other friends be. Hermione cast a glance at Harry, who still looked anxious.

"What's a wizard's duel?" He asked, feeling stupid. Draco gave a small smile and explained.

"Why me?"

"Maybe Weasley's jealous? You're friends with us and not him." Hermione guessed, moving to stand in front of Harry, reaching forward to smooth his hair, like her mother often did to her when she got anxious.

"Maybe," Harry replied, gently pushing Hermione's hands away, knowing her attempts would be all for naught, "I don't know why he'd be jealous of me, though, it's not like I was born with a silver spoon in my mouth, like a lot of other people who came from pureblood families."

"I dunno, Harry," Draco said, "I don't think we should go. Weasley probably wants us to go tonight and get caught by Filch."

"No, Draco. Weasley can't possibly be that smart. You should still not go, though, there've been far too many run-ins with teachers lately." Hermione giggled at her own joke, which got a chuckle from the boys.

"What would we do without you, Hermione?"

"We'd probably go mad."

**Author's Note:**

> more to come soon! in the meantime, give this a kudos or leave a comment, it would make my day :D


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